


Squiffy

by evangerical



Category: An Inspector Calls - Priestley
Genre: 1912, Gay, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Male Slash, My First Work in This Fandom, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, an inspector calls, better get me more marks in english lit, gcse, im doing this instead of my gcses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22317619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evangerical/pseuds/evangerical
Summary: After the Inspector leaves, the whole Birling family, and Mr Croft, is left stunned and confused. Eric Birling and Gerald Croft discover something new about themselves.
Relationships: Eric Birling/Gerald Croft
Comments: 9
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh like this is my first writing for quite a while :') so if theres any mistakes you know why  
> ive posted to instagram and wattpad for help too so yeah  
> please enjoy if you can!  
> TW: Vomiting, Anxiety, Alcohol

This story is set in An Inspector Calls.  
[The end of the play does not happen.]

Eric is sat at the dining table. Edna, Sheila and Gerald are in the room with him. Shiela and Edna are discussing what is to happen next if they find out that the whole fiasco was a scandal, and she would be outed, along with her intolerant parents and sibling. Edna is reassuring her, telling her that this may all be a misunderstanding, and as Arthur has not yet inquired with the police department, there was an aura, of guilt, doubt, and pressure.  
Gerald is standing next to Eric. It looked to be that Eric was truly upset about the Inspector's visit, and the mixture of his grief and alcohol did not sit well at all. His head was in his hands and he was sobbing, quietly, but noticably. He was not the type to hide emotions.

"Good god, I really have done it," Eric hiccups. "I've been bloody ruined, haven't I?"  
The drowsiness is noticible in his callow voice. His eyes are dripping. 

Gerald reassures.  
"Eric, how would you be ruined? You don't have the slightest idea if she is still alive or not," He averts his gaze to the ground.  
"We dont have the slightest idea that the Inspector was even a real Inspector."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I was so foolish!" Eric's jaw chatters whilst trying to conjure another statement.  
"Don't you see Gerald? We all learned something tonight. We killed that girl collectively."

"I suppose that we did. But we were all so unknowing to it all," Gerald sighs. "There doesn't seem to be much point in dwelling over it now."  
Gerald offers a hand to Eric.  
"Come on, you need to lie down. You are looking so unorderly."

Eric grasps Gerald's hand hard and pulls himself up. He wipes his tears on his wrinkled sleeve. Shiela and Edna quickly glance at Eric before returning to their conversation.  
"Oh, I feel so disgusting and queasy." Eric frets.  
Gerald pulls a questioned face. "Do you need anything?"  
"I need the bathroom, that's what."

Gerald guides Eric to the door, but Eric is panicked.  
He fleetily swings open the doors and sprints up the stairs to the bathroom, and so, Eric is feeling worse by the second. He can feel his insides convulsing and writhing.  
Eric fumbles with the door knob and launches himself to the toilet bowl.  
Theres a burning sensation in the back of his throat and his eyes are welling up. Its prickling and seething.  
He tenses and clutches the edges of the bowl, discharging an alcohol-bile mix. It smells putrid, and he gags more.  
Oh, by god he's shaking. He's hyperventilating and vomiting. Hyperventilating, and more vomiting.  
He'd drown in this horrid mess.

Gerald makes his way to the bathroom to see Eric still holding onto the toilet whilst spitting and sweating. He's half collapsed, but his spewing fit had stopped.  
"Oh my, Eric..."  
He reaches for underneath Eric's arms, and lifts him up. He turns Eric around to face him.  
"Eric, this needs to stop. You're looking so awful," Gerald lifts his hand and cups Eric's jaw, and pulls out a handkerchief.  
He wipes Eric's soggy face, and then around his mouth.  
"How on earth can you walk outside looking so devoid?"  
"I don't know."

Something about this is odd to Eric, as Gerald seems to be more snobbish than empathetic toward a person, especially him.  
He knew what Eric did, why wasn't he angry like the rest of his family? There is just something about Gerald that was incredibly... off.  
Since the Inspector came, he's seemed off. Eric wanted to know what was going on with it all.  
Has the Inspector finally bashed some sense into the lad? Is he finally starting to take responsibility for others?

Whilst Eric is deeply philosophizing, he is oblivious to Gerald gently guiding him along to his bedroom.  
Eric's footsteps are shaky and uncoordinated, theres no rhythm. The shock of having thrown up almost a gallon- well, feeling like it - seems to have rattled him up like a pair of maracas.  
"Ah, you get some rest, you bloody well need it." Gerald says whilst opening the door for Eric.

"Thank you Gerald," Eric looks at him, noticing a worried expression plastered on his face. "I'll be okay, don't worry yourself."

"I have every right to worry for you," Gerald says, easing Eric into his room. "Goodnight, Eric."  
Gerald couldn't help himself, but just gawk at Eric's eyes. They are a beautiful honey brown, encased in a broken red.  
Their gaze is locked.  
He finds it wonderful. His mind is wondering, until-  
"Goodnight, Gerald." Eric says, interrupting Geralds daydreaming, disappearing into his bedroom, and closing the door.

Gerald sighs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric does a thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk when im going to finish it but ill update this chapter when i have more aHHh

The only thing accompanying Gerald this night is the shallow breezes knocking on the window. Sheila is facing the other way; asleep, and Gerald is laying on his back, gaze stuck to the ceiling. Wondering. His mind is wondering.

It's been around a few hours after Gerald had said goodbye to Eric, and unknowing to eachothers activity, both are still awake. Thoughts racing.  
All Gerald can think about is what he saw.  
All Eric ponders about is why on earth Gerald seemed so caring.

Honey. Rich, golden honey brown. It's all and everything prioritized on Gerald's mind, and it infects every corner of his headspace.  
Something is telling him, it's true, and what he is feeling is morally right, but so- it is invalidated by social concepts.  
A sin. Blasphemy. He would surely go to Hell.  
Smoothened, delicate curls. Eric's forehead is sticky and his head is pounding, but feuding with the wretched pain is the forbidden thought of the man who so kindly guided him to his room after his dispute with the toilet bowl.  
Eric is overthinking why he stared so intently.

Gerald has almost had it with looking at the swirls on the ceiling- he cannot bear to stay still for longer.  
Gerald gently shuffles off and up from the bed which Sheila still rests on; trying not to create any loud noise or disturbance to wake her. He almost tiptoes to the door, before turning the doorknob, opening it and slipping outside into the hallway. His breathing is rapid until he ever-so-carefully shuts it behind him. A sigh escapes his lips.  
He looks up and down the hallway only to see a dim, warm light seeping out from Eric's bedroom.   
Only to see that Eric, himself, is peeping out the door with wide eyes, which immediately softened as soon as they met with Gerald's.  
"Eric..?" Gerald whispers.  
"Shh... c'mere. Mother and Father are asleep and I don't want them awake because of the racket." Eric beckons Gerald toward his room.  
Gerald daintily steps over the rickety floorboards hoping none would creak, and waits for Eric's approval to enter his room.  
Eric nods and opens the door, guiding Gerald in, and then quickly shuts it.


End file.
